Processing… Processing…
by Mrfipp
Summary: There's something on the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. He just wishes he knew what it was for.


Fipp: One of (hopefully) a few one-shots I have planned.

**Processing... Processing...**

"That's weird," the Doctor said.

"What's weird?" Rose replied, and looked up at the Doctor from across the console.

He didn't reply, but only looked at his sonic screw driver. Tapping it along the side, it made several buzzing noise before he placed it to his ear.

"How did that get there?" he said aloud.

"How did what get where?"

The Doctor looked back to Rose and held up the screwdrivers. "I found something that I didn't know what here."

"Is that something to be worried about?" Rose asked.

"I don't know." He went back to looking at the screwdrivers. "For some reason, it's analyzing a scan on a wooden door, to the molecular level, and is trying to find the right frequency to break it down. It's been going on for a few years now actually."

"Why would it be doing that?"

"I don't know. I must have started it for some reason, probably to get through a wooden door. The sonic's rubbish on wood, but I still analyzed it."

"But you got through the door?"

"Apparently so. At least I think I did."

Rose folded her arms over her chest. "So, you escaped from a door, but you didn't remember doing it?"

The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed. "And I scanned it, knowing that it would be pointless to do so?"

"So then why'd you scan it then?"

He didn't answer, but only looked at the device. He looked at it for a very long time he before he put it back into his jacket pocket, and shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm sure I had a good reason for it, so maybe I'll remember it later." He reached back down to the console and started pressing buttons. "If I do remember what it was for, I'll let you be the first to know."

Rose never found out.

000

The Doctor looked down at the broken remains of his sonic screwdriver, heartsbroken.

"My sonic screwdriver," he said sadly. "But I'd just rebuilt it."

Donna grunted.

"I know Donna, I know," he said, dismissively. "I can always rebuild another one, but I always put so much work into them, Feels like I'm putting something of myself into them. Well, a psychic imprint, that's something isn't it?"

Donna grunted again.

"But I wouldn't be too worried Donna, like I said, I can rebuild them, that's easy, and all the apps and programs on them are saved right onto the TARDIS data banks. I can't tell you how much of a lifesaver that is! Seriously, did you know I have this scan on a wooden door going on? It's been at it for years now! I honestly have no clue why I scanned a wooded door, but I think I knew that it would take centuries to finish. Obviously I knew I was going to be at the wooden door again someday." He heavily sighed. "I just really wish I knew more than that."

Donna finally managed to chew through the gag. "Would you shut up about your stupid toy and GET US OUT OF HERE!" she bellowed. "That thing's coming back! OH MY GOD IT'S HERE!"

The Doctor, who like Donna was hanging upside-down, looked down the muddy tunnel and saw the crocodile-spider crawling up the webbing.

Oh dear. If only he had a handful of copper then everything would be alright. But he didn't, so he would have to improvise.

Now if only he could figure out what that meant at the moment.

000

There was a ding.

"Was that a ding?" Amy asked.

"I think it was a ding," the Doctor said. He pulled his sonic screwdriver out, extended it, and looked at the green light at the end. After several moment, he widely smiled and laughed. "Ding! Analysis complete at last!"

"What analysis?" Rory asked, walking up the staircase.

The Doctor continued to smile as he wavered the sonic screwdriver in the air. "Finally, after all this time it is done!" He then proceeded to twirl in circles.

"What are you talking about?" Amy put a hand on her hip.

The Doctor stopped and turned to face the two, before holding up the device. "This, Amelia Pond and Rory Williams, is a complete analysis of a wooden door, which will now allow me to disintegrate it and allow me passage through."

"So, you can sonic wooden doors now?" Amy said, eying the sonic.

"That's good, because we've had too many close calls because you couldn't open up a door," Rory added.

"Not any wooden doors," the Doctor said, "but a certain wooden door. A specific wooden door somewhere in the universe."

"So just one door then?" Amy asked.

"Yes!"

"That sounds pointless," Rory said.

"I don't think it is," the Doctor mumbled, looking down at the device.

"It really is though," Amy said.

"Say that now, Pond, and when I do find that door, it will be absolutely cool when I blow it to bit."

000

The TARDIS materialized and Clara stepped out, followed by the Doctor.

"What are we doing back here?" Clara asked, looking around the dark dungeon.

"We are here, Clara Oswald, to finish some unfinished business," the Doctor said, spinning around on one foot, scanning the room with his eyes.

"Here to visit the Queen again? By the way, how was it to stand witness to your own wedding? Twice?"

"Shh." The Doctor pressed a finger against Clara's lips, and with the other hand, raised the sonic screwdriver. "Watch this."

He then stuck out the screwdriver and it began to buzz, slowly at first, but the longer it went the louder it got. The door it was pointed at began to vibrate, before a large crack appeared down the center of it. Suddenly, it exploded into a shower of sawdust.

"Yes!" the Doctor cheered. "I've been waiting centuries for that! So very cool!"

"Yeah, so very cool," Clara deadpanned, wiping the sawdust off of her dress and hair.

Ignoring Clara, and the debris on him, the Doctor turned back to the TARDIS. "Now, I think it's time to go."

"Now? Why now?"

"Because we just exploded a wooded door with a very loud instrument in a very loud manner. People tend to react negativity towards those sorts of things."

Down the hall, past the entryway that once held a door, was the sound of rushing, clanking armor.

Clara quickly rushed into the TARDIS.

The Doctor was about to rush in after her, but he turned to admire his work.

"Seriously, four-hundred years, couldn't leave that work unfinished."

He then went into the box, leaving behind a pile of dust, and several alarmed and confused guards.

000

Please review,

Mrfipp


End file.
